Prison Visit
by restorick
Summary: Set in 1991. Part of Bodie's back story before CI5 which is hinted at in 'Reunion'.


Prison Visit 1991

"C'mon, Geoghegan, your visitor's here. Gone up in the world, spilling information to the big guys now?"

The elderly prisoner left his room on the medical wing and moved ahead of the warder. He said nothing, knowing exactly who the visitor was. He hadn't known if the man would come after all this time but was pleased that he had.

-oo0oo-

A pacing figure turned as Geoghegan entered the visiting room and they regarded each other from either side of a security screen. The visitor nodded to the warder, sending him away and the man exited with a curious backward glance at the ailing Irishman and CI5 operative.

The inmate sat gratefully, catching his breath. Eventually, he was able to speak with enough force to be heard through the window vent. "Hello Bodie. 'Tis good to see you. Been a long time."

"Noel. Yeah, it has."

"Sixteen years and two months. Haven't seen you since just after the funeral."

There it was; the kind of reminiscence Bodie wanted to avoid but was inevitable. "No."

"Y've not changed much. A touch grey now, not unlike meself," Geoghegan grinned, running his hand across pure white hair that was thinning in obvious patches.

Bodie couldn't say the same, taking in the gaunt face and pallor of the older man's skin and seeing him snatching at shallow breaths. It was an air of sickness he'd seen before and he noted a plastic cap taped to the back of the prisoner's hand. Bodie sat, trying to settle in a utility chair that wasn't made for comfort and made him no less aware of where he was and why.

Having received an HMP visiting order several weeks before which had taken an equal amount of time to track him down via the MOD and CI5, Bodie took a while to mull it over before eventually booking a date. It had arrived at a time of year and a date that he hadn't thought about in a long while, having happier things to occupy his mind and make memories from.

"You just disappeared, Bodie. Naw goodbye, naw news to yer poor Daddy. Where'd you go, son?"

Bodie began inspecting his own hands closely. He'd promised himself not to feel like this, that the past wouldn't drag him backward. But, faced with a man he'd liked and had a connection to for some years, he couldn't help momentarily acknowledging the other's disappointment. Bodie had been prepared for the memories; just not how fast and hard they would come. Noel Geoghegan reminded him of a young woman they'd both loved, of their innocence about family links to the Republican movement, the illness which took her from them and Bodie's subsequent rejection of all that was bad, as well as the good in his life.

They'd known each other as kids, running in the same streets. Then went out together, on and off, when he returned from his wandering to join the army. A few years later, they got together out of need when, in quick succession, his beloved Mam passed away, Noel was imprisoned for the umpteenth time and her mother left for Ireland with the younger ones. Claire had no one and no home. Bodie understood that feeling. She cared for him so much, so he tried to rescue her like one of the hostages they were trained for. Maybe they were all the wrong reasons, but it had felt right at the time.

In those days living together wasn't an option in the forces. Married quarters were only available if you were legally wed and so that's what they did. And family was the norm for soldiers. Kids bound the women together while their men folk were away and Claire was a natural mother. When she fell pregnant, it seemed the pattern would soon be complete but it was just as quickly to fall apart, proved to be totally wrong. Of their fourteen months, half were spent with her illness then Claire was gone, too.

Geoghegan was right. He simply went AWOL. Literally. Walking out of his captain's house and as far as possible from his own distant father. He pushed away regiment mates and friends from home, wanting no reminders of what had happened. Holed up in a cheap London hotel, he started seeking out old contacts, making moves to return to Africa. Bodie was chasing an end to the pain which he couldn't find at the bottom of a bottle.

Then at the critical hour, Cpt. Statham had tracked him down to warn Bodie that he couldn't keep the M.P.s at bay any longer. He had to return or resign. Guy counselled his sergeant that this was no way to end a stellar career. Assured him that he could deflect the security risk of Bodie's relationship with the niece of a suspected activist, as the connection had only just come to light and the couple had proved to be totally unaware of it. Bodie trusted Guy. Statham was the only officer not to suspect Bodie of treachery and hadn't tried to persuade his man to use this new found information in espionage.

They both knew this wasn't the whole reason Bodie was running. If he returned, he'd have to face his grief. Accept that not every woman he loved was going to be taken from him, as his Mam and Claire had been or in the crossfire his way of life attracted. With his captain's patronage, he went back. Instead of facing a charge, he was allowed to stay on compassionate leave under Statham's roof while he decided what to do. As it turned out, not long after, Guy was offering him another choice. One that the SAS officer had recommended his sergeant for; CI5. And that had changed the course of Bodie's life, yet again.

He'd been accepted into a fresh start by more people who saved him from himself. Eventually, he was grateful to them. Bodie grew even tougher, if that was at all possible. Armouring himself from hurt returned him to a way of life which was to be his touchstone for many years. Enjoying the benefits of his new role, he wined, dined, chatted up and had fun; lots of uncomplicated, no strings pleasure. And he never got too close, because he'd learned that getting involved invited hurt and ruin. Bodie felt vindicated when Marikka had reappeared years later and it happened all over again.

That was until three years ago, when he'd met someone whose own history was similar and she too managed life in her own way. Her outlook had appeared so very different to his. In effect, they were the same under that tough skin each had developed. So much so, that she'd known when he was floundering again. They'd recognised themselves in the other.

Bodie pulled himself together, trying to ward off his feelings with impatience. "I'm not here to go over the past. I know you're sick; fair enough, but what do you want?"

"She was me wee lassy. It's no less painful for me, son, all these years later. Especially now. I have it, too."

He'd thought something of this kind was behind the summons from his ex father-in-law, although he'd bet himself it was either the fags or booze that had got him. Looking up, Bodie saw the sincerity of a fated man. This wasn't memory lane or a guilt trip just to pull Bodie apart. Geoghegan was dying and tying up loose ends.

"Sorry to hear that, Noel."

"Haven't got that long, you see. I'm awful sorry if I've interrupted yer busy life, just now. But I wanted to see you the one last time, Bodie...an' ask a wee favour, if you will?"

"Look, I'm really sorry that you're ill, but I can't have that kind of connection with you, now. I'm not with the army anymore but I do work for the Civil Service. Come on," he leant forward, hands on the counter between them. "You know what that means. If I hadn't had the chance in '76, I could've been run out of the Specials with nothing to my name. I'd've never served again. After all those years of fighting my way up." Bodie tried appealing to the man. "But they looked the other way because I'd never met your brother. I had no idea what he was into and because our relationship was...finished."

"I know. You've done well, son. I've taken an interest over the years. This CI5 sounds just yer thing an' I'd never be foulin' it up for you. Proud of you, to be sure. So would she've been."

Bodie shook his head in warning.

"And yer daddy. You do know that, don't you?"

"Yeah." Bodie let out a long sigh. This wasn't going the way he'd planned. Get in, hear the dying man's words and get out. Quick, clean, no consequences and definitelynoguilt. And yet here he was feeling like that young man again, whose life and career were threatening to spiral out of control.

"I'd've ne're let Eamonn touch Claire an' yerself. He wasn't my cuppa tea, most've the time. I didn't wanna know about the Troubles and, as he was in Ulster, we were all none the wiser. Better, for it."

There was a pause during which the men were each lost in their own thoughts. Then Geoghegan broke the quiet with the lilting tone that Bodie remembered so well. "Me darlin' girl loved you so much, son. An' you, her. Rare that is, in this life." The prisoner started coughing; a dry, painful choking that had Bodie reaching for a buzzer to summon assistance. Geoghegan held up a hand to stop him and spat into a tissue. "'S'okay, son. Nothin' I canny handle," he wheezed.

Whether this was a ploy to prompt Bodie's conscience or not, he couldn't ignore the man's state of health. "So, the 'wee favour' is...?"

"Go to the grave, will you?" the prisoner gasped. "Put a little something on it from her daddy."

"I dunno. I've never been back myself."

"I'd like it to be someone who knew her and I have no one else to go, Bodie. I'll be joinin' me lassy all too soon."

"Noel, pack it in! I don't go north anymore."

"Not to see yer sister?"

"Marie emigrated to Australia after me Da went. Not been to the 'Pool for years."

"So, all alone in the world too? Think how it feels to me, son. No one to mourn me or to put a few daisies on Claire's grave."

"Sunflowers."

"Beg pardon?"

"Claire's favourites," Bodie murmured, "were sunflowers."

"There. You see? Only you an' I know that, now."

Bodie looked at his former father-in-law. Despite the blarney, the charm that, in his heyday, used to pull women as equally well as birds from trees, he could see genuine distress in the man's eyes. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. I can't go myself." He waved down a protest from the other. "I can't. I'm not alone, these days. I have a family and I'm not living in London. So I'll arrange for flowers to be laid for you." He conceded a little more. "And perhaps a photo, so you can see. It's the best I can do."

Geoghegan accepted with a nod and resigned smile. "That'll be awful good of you. No card; me wee girl'll know."

Bodie nodded in agreement and began to get up but then sat again, old times and manners kicking in. "Is there anything you need? You okay for money, extras? Want any food sent in? I can wangle that for you."

"No, yer alright. I do quite nicely, thanks." He patted his non-existent waistline and stood, tiredly. "I'll be sayin' farewell, then. Get a bit weary by this time o'day."

Bodie got to his feet. Would like to have shaken the man's hand that last time but couldn't due to rules and security.

"Thanks for coming, son. You've brought an old feller a bit o'peace." Geoghegan had sorrow written on his face. "An' I'm pleased to know yer happy."

"You're welcome, Noel. Glad I made the effort. You take..." Bodie grimaced, the words being automatic but pointless. "Look, I hope you're..." Not knowing what to say, he opened his arms in a gesture of defeat.

"Yer okay, Bodie. 'Preciate it." The prisoner pressed a button on the counter. It sounded outside his partition and almost immediately was answered by the same warder. "Youtake care, son, of yerself an' yer dear ones." He smiled wanly then shuffled to the open door and through it, followed by his jailer. Noel Geoghegan was locked away without another glance at the visitor left behind.


End file.
